Jabberjay
by diAngelo57
Summary: In an effort to contain the spark of Katniss Everdeen, President Snow sends an escort to keep an eye on her for six months. But when she's caught hunting in the woods, things turn from bad to worse, and Katniss is sent to live in the Capitol for the rest of her life. Only her escort can seem to soothe her, and that escort is none other than the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello friends! I decided to make a sequel to Just This Once, and here it is! This tells the events leading up to my other story. Hopefully you'll enjoy it!**

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I exhaled heavily, wrapping my arms around my knees. The Victory Tour was over. I was going home. There was just one minor setback. . . .

I looked over to where Haymitch was leaning against the wall, glaring at the man across the room. The man glanced away, looking down at his shoes.

"Miss Everdeen, if there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable. . ." he began.

"There isn't, Crane," I snapped at him. "I think this situation will be easier on all of us if we can both pretend you're not here."

The Gamemaker lowered his head respectfully, any other words silenced.

Still tense, I stood up and angrily stormed off to my room, nearly slamming into the train doors. I curled up on my bed, fuming.  
I heard the doors open again and felt the weight of somebody sitting down on my bed.

"Sweetheart."

"Go away, Haymitch," I grumbled, throwing a pillow at him.

He ducked and laughed. "I'm glad this trip hasn't taken the spark out of you."

I grunted. "Not yet."

He was silent for a moment, all humor gone from his voice. "Snow's doing this to keep an eye on you, you know."

"I know. But I don't see why _he_ has to be the one who stays and lives with me for seven months!"

"It's just a part of their game. Don't do anything stupid." He gave me a light touch on the shoulder and was gone.

So of course, I did the opposite of his advice.


	2. Chapter 2

"Prim!" I swept my little sister into my arms.

"Katniss!" she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Where's mom?" I looked wildly around for the blonde head of my mother.

The train had finally come to a stop in District Twelve and Haymith, Seneca and I had been left at the platform. However, the only people there to greet us were Prim and a few peacekeepers.

"She caught the flu a few days after you left for the tour. Gale's looking after her."

My brain went on alert. "You walked all the way up here alone?" I stood up and held her hand.

"No, Darius walked me here," she pointed to the young peacekeeper in white standing by the platform.

I narrowed my eyes and steered her away. "Come on, let's go home. Haymitch!"

Haymitch and Seneca silently followed us, the gravel crunching beneath their shoes.

"Who's he?" Prim asked in a hushed whisper, watching the Gamemaker out of the corner of her eye.

My mind raced quickly for a suitable lie. "Just my escort from the Capitol. He'll be staying with us for a while, but don't pay him any mind."

We continued our walk in silence until we had passed through the nicer part of District Twelve and into the Victor's Village. Haymitch abandoned our company for his own home, and left Prim and I to find our mother.

"Mom?" I entered our home and looked around for a familiar face. Seneca dwelled idley by the door, unsure of what to do.

"Catnip!" Gale's sturdy voice echoed from a few rooms over.

We rushed in to see him at my mother's bedside, nursing a cold cloth on her head. He looked up at me but didn't smile, and his gaze wandered to Seneca. A flash of angry recognition gleamed in his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something. I shook my head no ever so slightly, my eyes motioning to Prim. Gale froze, but the hardness stayed in his eyes.

"It's not good, Katniss," he said.

I wasn't sure if he was referring to my mother or the Gamemaker.

"It's just the flu. She'll get over it," I stated blandly.

Gale hummed and turned back to my mother.

I bristled at his coldness and turned to Seneca. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

I led him to one of our many guest bedrooms, purposefully the one furthest from Prim and I's. It was one of the more plain rooms, holding only a firm bed, plain gray curtains, and a small sidetable.

Seneca glanced over the space quickly, setting his small bag of luggage down on the mattress. "Thank you, this will do nicely."

A long silence ensued, so tense it became hard to breathe. He stared at me, his icy blue eyes burning into mine. I blinked rapidly and looked away.

"Bathroom's on the left, down the hall," I stuttered and, desperate to escape the suffocating tension, scuttled away. He chuckled softly.

That night I dreamed of a sleek, laughing jabberjay with piercing blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait, guys. So here's an extra long chapter.**

I awoke long before dawn, tired and confused about my avian dream. Not only did the piercing blue eyes of the jabberjay disturb me, but also the flashes of the Games that plagued me when the gaze of the bird did not.

I sighed heavily and quickly shed my evening attire, changing into a long-sleeved green sweater and my old cargo pants. Going back to sleep was useless; I'd just end up waking from nightmares or . . . other dreams.

I silently tiptoed out of my room and into the kitchen, where I found Gale relaxing his head and arms on the table, asleep next to my resting mother. Knowing I'd be useless trying to tend to either of them, I quietly re-lit the dying embers in the hearth before dawning my father's jacket and slipping out the front door. I was immediately greeted by the brisk chill of the dark, early morning. Winter was well on its way.

My breath was about the only thing that could be seen besides the barely lit path of gravel. I followed it, not really caring about where I was going, and kicked some of the chalky stones as I went. Inevitably, I found my legs drawing me to the electric fence guarding the woods. I guess old habits die hard.

I slipped under it and found myself heading towards where Gale and I hid our bows. When I knew that the old, rotten log couldn't be more than thirty feet away, I took a sharp turn to the left and scaled a tall birch tree.

I felt my head beginning to clear as soon as I settled on the perfect, thick branch, and I exhaled, feeling mentally refreshed. It might seem odd to some, sitting in a tree during the middle of the night while the weather is cold enough to snow, but I found it liberating. Any thoughts of Peeta, my mother, Snow, and Crane fled from my mind, and my head drooped against my chest, utterly relaxed.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but at some point I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was high in the sky. I was disoriented for a moment and my heart began to pound heavily against my ribcage.

'I'm back. I'm back in the arena,' I thought, beginning to shake. It was only when I looked down and saw I was wearing my leather jacket that I knew that wasn't the case. No arena. No mutts. No Careers. No Peeta.

My breathing began to slow and I carefully climbed down, feeling calmer and calmer with each movement. It was when my feet hit the ground that I heard a large gong begin to sound. Several birds flew out of the bushes near me in alarm, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Something wasn't right.

I began to sprint back through the forest, and every few moments the bell would ring again, alerting everything in the forest. When I reached the chainlink fence, I found it to be buzzing with electricity.

I gazed at it in horror. The space where Gale and I usually slipped through was gone, replaced by thick, barbed wire. I glanced around, desperately searching for a way back, and spotted a tree with a branch that extended slightly over the top of the fence.

I quickly scaled the tree and edged myself onto the thin branch, praying that it would hold my weight. When I had reached the furthest I could go, I took a deep breath and tried to estimate the distance to the ground. 'Fifteen feet, at the most,' I thought. Then, against the screaming voice of common sense in my head, I launched myself through the air and over the electric barrier.

I hit the ground with a *crunch*, and a pain unlike any I'd ever felt engulfed me from my ankle to my shin. I cried out in pain as the fiery sensation crawled up and around my shattered bone, licking at nerves I never knew existed. It was only the loud toll of the bell that urged me to uncurl from my fetal position and limp towards the town square.

Every step brought unbearable torture, and as I looked down at my awkwardly bent leg I knew that there wouldn't be any way I could hide this from certain prying Capitol eyes. The thought seemed to fuel me, and for a few precious minutes my pain was overridden by fury and loathing for the man responsible for the making of the Games. I suppose it was that thought that helped me reach the center of town.

All around, several families were gathered in the square, and several rows of Peacekeepers were talking to the citizens. As I drew nearer, I saw that they weren't conversing at all, but rather pushing and cruelly demanding something.

"Hey!" I snarled, raising my voice as a particularly large Peacekeeper reached out to strike an old woman. He drew away and shoved the woman to the side before approaching me swiftly.

"We've been looking for you, Miss Everdeen," he growled through his helmet. He seized my arm with an iron grip and began to drag me along witg him.

I shrieked in agony as my leg was twisted the wrong way.

The Peacekeeper stopped and curled his lip with a nasty smile. "I see you've injured yourself. Now I wonder how you came about that?"

Instead of continuing to lead me on foot, he scooped me up into the air and carried me.

I grit my teeth, embarrassed and angry that I couldn't give him hell. He carried me all the way to the district building and took me inside a room down the hall from where the Reaped children usually say goodbye to their families.

"Wait here," said the Peacekeeper roughly, tossing me onto a stiff, red sofa. I scowled at his back as he left, and only when he slammed the wooden doors shut did I dare to examine my leg more closely.

I tenderly pulled back the sleeve of my pant leg and looked at my bruised skin. My ankle and calf were bruised and cut badly, but my shin was by far the most damaged. In addition to the bluish-black swelling, a small lump was protruding from the inside of my leg, presumably the bone. I found myself clawing at the sofa cushions in agony, my nails creating light lines in the dark maroon velvet.

Just as the pain started to subside, the doors were flung open once again, and in walked Haymitch and Seneca.

"Nice going, sweetheart. You've managed to dig yourself an even deeper pit," he growled, pacing back and forth. "You look awful, by the way."

"Haymitch, what's going on?" I asked sharply, ignoring who he had with him.

The blonde man sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "They know about the hunting."

My eyes briefly flickered to Seneca. "What hunting?"

"Katniss, he knows, alright? He's with us," Haymitch sighed. "Anyways, Snow knows about the woods, he knows about the Hob, he knows everything. We think he sent a spy with us."

"Gee, I wonder who it could be?" I said haughtily.

Haymitch shot me a nasty look before continuing. "He's giving you an option: either stay in District Twelve and let others be punished, or you can take up a life in the center of the Capitol."

"For how long?"

I knew the answer from the look in his eyes. My heart sank, and I blurted out, "What about Prim?"

"I'll do the best I can, Katniss. At the worst, she'll go to live with the Hawthorns."

Though Haymitch's words soothed me, I couldn't help but feel panic beginning to bubble up inside of me. District Twelve was my home. I couldn't leave it!

I began to breathe and sob quickly, on the edge of hyperventilation. Haymitch knelt down and embraced me.

"You're going to have to trust me, sweetheart," he said, rubbing my back. "We have a plan. And remember, you'll have three people there with you: Cinna, Effie, and Seneca."

And just as quickly as he was there, he and his whiskey-like scent were gone, leaving me to ponder what he had said. What had he meant by "we have a plan"?

"Miss Everdeen, I suggest you gather what you wish to bring with you. We have a long journey tomorrow," Seneca Crane, who hadn't spoken this entire time, prodded me gently.

I ignored the tingling sensation his hand left on my shoulder and glared at him. Somehow, his blue eyes were impossible to intimidate, and I felt as though his gaze was electrifying. . .in a bad way, of course.

I sighed. This was going to be a long night.

**If you want me to continue this story, please, _please_ review!**


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